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Ya see, I'm Irish, but I'm not a leprechaun You wanna fight, then step up and we'll get it on You gotta right to the grill, I'm white and I ill descendant of Dublin with titanic skill I ducked and I swing, next thing your jaw's broken Punk I ain't jokin', you can bet you'll be chokin' On a fist full a nothin', meanwhile I'll be puffin' On a fat [bad word] punk, you don't know the half Tryin' to talk [bad word] man, please don't make me laugh These Irish eyes are smilin', I'm buckwildin' The House Of Pain is pumpin', start jumpin' Freak it, funk it, back seat junk it If you can't get with it, you'll wind up sweatin' it Then you'll get a beatin' just like an egg It's so hard [bad word] when you've got a broken leg But we can have [bad word] off, the House Of [bad word] off We got the cake that you're tryin' to get a [bad word] off The Irish style, the Celtic jazz No one has it, just us that's it If you try to take it, I got a big shileighly I don't have dreads cause I shave my head daily You call me a skin head, I call you a pin head Yo, where you been man, just like the tin man You got no heart, [bad word] the good part I pick 'em, buck 'em, cut 'em up, and buck them down No [bad word] #39; around Home boy ya get clown like [bad word] [bad word] me You shouldn't play, and by the way Top o' the mornin' to ya [bad word] (What's the hassle man?) Top o' the mornin' to ya [2x] (Hey, are you givin' us a hassle man?) Greetings, salutations Peace to the nations of Zulu and Islam Crack the bottle, rev the throttle Put the gear in, now you're stearin' Like Mario Antretti So let me kick it, cause I can make a wicked Noise like a cricket [bad word] #39; his legs, my rhymes are like eggs I'll keep layin' 'em, I'll keep sayin' 'em This is the House Of Pain, we're far from plain But we're not fancy, Ron and Nancy So just say no, but I say go Straight to [bad word] I kiss and tell So if you're a ho, all my friends know What you gotta say, let's hit the hay And have no delay, and yo, by the way Top o' the mornin' to ya [bad word] Extra extra, read all about it How could ya doubt it? Now scream and shout it! The House Of Pain soon will reign Over the hip hop scene in white, gold, and green I rip [bad word] and back flip like a Jedi I roll with the groove and I'm smooth and you can bet I [bad word] correct and get respect when I'm flowin' Collecting my dough, I got you're girlfriend ho-in' And how do I know that she's funk? I know she's broke cause yo, the T's hung like a Shetland pony, gettin' paid like Sony So never ever try to play me out like a phony Cause I can get real thick like a bowl of Malt-o-Meal And by the way, top o' the mornin' to ya